Soon
by Diamond Tears
Summary: Dawn's POV, She sees Buffy/Spike... Spike comes to visit her... :) Some Daw/S smoochies...


Title: Melamin  
Rating: PG, just to be on the safe side  
  
A/N: I don't own anything... *sob* All my love to Joss, king of Buffydom... :)  
  
But now! On with the fiction!!!  
  
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It's not like I don't see things. I'm not blind to the workings of the world and I don't just  
mean the vampires and the demons and the magic spells. I mean the people, the way they  
act and when things are wrong.  
  
To anyone's eyes it might seem as if Spike and Buffy are on shaky ground. They might see  
it that way but they would be wrong. I see what's really going and I knew long before this  
moment.  
  
When did I know? I'm not really sure. It could have been Spike told Doc he had made a  
promise to a lady. Could have been when he came in just a few hours ago in that crazy  
tweed suit.  
  
Whenever it was the scene that plays out beneath my window doesn't surprise me. Hurt  
me? That's another story but it holds no surprises. My sister, the Slayer, marching up to  
the house as if she owned the whole block and her vampire devotee following like a little  
lost puppy.  
  
Don't get me wrong I love that puppy. I'd kill to be followed by that puppy.  
  
He says something and she spins on her heel, blond mess of hair flying, as angry as her  
tone. She'll fold her arms and pretend to put up with him while he tries to explain. Tonight  
was different. He didn't explain, he pulled her close and crushed her lips with his.  
  
They are still going at it, nope, not at all surprising.  
  
Does it hurt? Hell yes, I want some one. I'm not asking for a lot. He doesn't even have to  
breathe! He just has to be animated, and preferably not to evil. But what do I get?  
Nothing. But she has him, tall and so damn handsome in that black duster that's older than  
she is.  
  
And does she appreciate him? Hell no, that would be to easy. But still he follows her. Loves  
her, kisses her. He doesn't even remember me, he's so caught up in her lips. It's wonder he  
even remembers my name.  
  
"Shhh," She whispers, lips separated from his.   
"Why?" He's gasping for air he doesn't need. I roll my eyes, she doesn't kiss that well.  
"She's sleeping."  
"Who? Dawn?"  
  
I want to scream, rip my hair out and throw things. I wouldn't care if the Pope was sleeping  
above me! Nothing would keep me from kissing him till he couldn't even pretend to breathe!  
But no, my sister, using me as an escape from her 'moral' dilemma. Makes me want to smack  
her.   
  
"Yeah, she'd, she wouldn't like this." She's right, I would hate it, wait, I do hate it!  
"So?"  
  
Oh boy, I'd give my left side for a crossbow and fiery arrow. But with my talents wielding  
a weapon being what they are I'd hit Mrs. Laymore's petunias across the street. She's be  
more even more upset than the time Buffy ran her roses over with mom's SUV. Momentary  
snicker. Two pairs of eyes towards my window.  
  
Okay, it was a really loud snicker. A soft peal of laughter. I pray under my breath.  
  
Buffy runs into the house and Spike waves shyly. Shoving his hands in his pockets and  
whistling a happy tune he walks off.  
  
"Come back and play tonsil hockey with Buffy again soon," I scream out the window.  
"Dawn!" Buffy yells from the stairs.  
  
I could almost hear his chuckle of mixed embarrassment and amusement as he crushes Mr.  
Torris' lawn. I turn from the window as Buffy walks in and grabs me by the shoulders to  
drag me away from the window.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" She demands as I start laughing.  
  
I can't answer I'm laughing so hard. She stands there for a moment and stares at me  
before throwing up her hands and walking off. She slams my door and then the front door  
I look out the window and watch her stomp off. I fall back on the bed still laughing  
hysterically. Then I burst into tears. I bury my face in the pillow and cry until a hand  
slowly runs across my shoulder. I shrug it off and the sit up, sweeping away tears.  
  
It's Spike, the punished little puppy that I want to just kill he's so damn sexy. He's pouting  
with concern and his lips are a slight red from Buffy's lip gloss.  
  
"Even as cute as you are you're lucky she didn't hurt you."  
"Who's version did you read to come up with 'she didn't hurt you'?"  
"The one where I didn't smell any blood on the air?"  
"Well, I'm sorry you missed the bloody and gross scratch and sniff version..."  
"I'm not."  
  
He's kneeling there, his body between my legs as I sit up farther. I think I went pale  
because he chuckled again. He tilts his head to the side and looks at me. I scold the  
fluttering of my stomach. He leans up and whispers close to my ear.  
  
"She doesn't smell half as intoxicating as you."  
  
I laugh quietly at the thought of a scratch and sniff Buffy. It's Buffy the Air Freshener. I  
hush myself quickly as he pushes his torso closer. My heart races and I swallow, breathing  
deep and fast. He runs a hand over my shoulder and down my arm.  
  
"There's my little bit."  
  
I close my eyes, count to ten, think about how angry I am that he was kissing Buffy not  
more than five minutes ago. Nothing works. His fake breath is hitting my neck and his  
chest is pressed against my abdomen. His hands are on my thighs and I think I'm about to  
die from the contact.  
  
"What do you have against Buffy and I?" He asked soothingly.  
I knew it was to good to be true, "She will never treat you the way you deserve."  
His hand is on the back of my neck. "Baby, remember I'm a vampire."  
"I do." My voice is shaking, he's tilting my head back very slowly.  
"I deserve to be feeding from her lovely neck, or maybe yours."  
  
I'm suddenly nervous, a slight tendril of fear creeping up my spine. He's chuckling again,  
moving his body up and closer. His lips on my collarbone, tiny, breathless, cold kisses. He  
whispers soothing nonsense as I start to shiver.  
  
"What does a vampire deserve?" He wonders out loud.  
"To love some one who loves you back, that's what everyone deserves."  
"Not me, I'm evil."  
"Maybe." His hand tightens, I whimper, "Doesn't change what I think."  
"That's what I love about you nibblet, you treat me like a person."  
"And what, you're not?"  
  
He slips from his human form, his lips curling back against his fangs. He runs them along my  
neck and chuckles again. I'm really scared now, not being able to see what it is that he's up  
to.  
  
"Tell me sweet pea, does that feel human?"  
"No..." My voice is shaky and I'm trying to breath evenly.  
"Good, because it isn't. I'm evil, a killing machine that doesn't care about anything else."  
"You care about Buffy."  
"And what? I don't care about you?"  
  
He pulls away, he's the old protector-of-Dawn Spike. I sigh softly. I relax, my shoulders  
fall and he's still staring at me, waiting for an answer. I search for one as if I'm in the  
dark. I part my lips but nothing comes out. He looks at me accusingly.  
  
"Is that what you think?"  
"Well, no, it's just you like Buffy..." I trail off, looking over his head.  
He sits up farther, eye to eye with me now. "I love you."  
"What?" I'm looking at him, eyes wide.  
He kisses my forehead carefully. "You should know that little bit, I always have,"  
"No the way you love Bu..."  
  
A finger over my lips keeps her name out of it. He smiles, a real smile, and it's one I've  
never seen. I blush, my heart beats faster and he whispers the same words again.  
  
"There's my little bit."  
  
I giggle softly, his finger still pressed tightly against my lips. He's looking at me and  
something in his eyes startles me.  
  
"She'll be back soon."  
"You'll have to make up a story..."  
"Or I could just leave."  
"No." I whisper, "Please don't."  
  
He smiles again and his hand finds it's way to my cheek, he leans forward and kisses me  
softly. His lips are cool and most of me doesn't care that he smells like Buffy's minty lip  
gloss. I look down. He smiles again.  
  
"I love you bit, always you."  
"Why are you playing with me like this?"  
"Not playing," He glances towards the window, "Never playing."  
"But..."  
"Trust me,"  
"I do."  
  
He kisses me again and moves to his feet. I shiver, wondering when Buffy come running in  
to tell me that she caught it all on camera. The front door slams and I look up at him. He's  
moving to the window and climbing out.  
  
"Where are you going?" I whisper.  
"Don't worry little one, I know where you live."  
"When are you..."  
"Soon." 


End file.
